With a LOT of Help From His Friends (Celtic Thunder)
by BarbT
Summary: Keith Harkin accidentally cut his wrist on glass during the 2012 US/Canadian Fall Tour. My take on how things happened, based mostly on Keith's Facebook page and Sharon's blogs. Takes place shortly after Recovery: From the Other Side ends, and is mentioned at the end of that story. Obviously I love the way the guys interact and support each other.
1. Chapter 1

With a LOT of Help From His Friends Chapter 1

Dave Bakey got out of the shower in the Sarasota hotel room. The hot water had eased the hangover a little, but he knew he was in for a rough day. At least he wouldn't be alone. The CT Halloween party had been last night, and everyone was going to be a little rough today. He would never understand how Keith, who he was sharing a room with, could wake up with a killer hangover and still sit happily in bed playing his guitar. He'd even had Dave take a picture of him to put out on Twitter.

Suddenly he heard a loud crash, like breaking glass, and a yell out in the hotel room. "Keith?" he called. "You OK?" It sounded like something big had broken. When he got no answer, he got worried. "Shit," he thought, "I hope he didn't pass out and fall on a lamp or something." He tugged his shorts on quickly and stepped out of the bathroom. "Keith?"

He was relieved to see Keith on his feet, standing by the window. A quick glance showed nothing out of place. "Keith, what was that crash?" Keith didn't respond. He was standing there, holding his right arm in his left hand, staring at his hand. "Keith?" Dave walked over towards the window, stopping suddenly when his foot hit something cold and hard. Looking down, he realized that the floor was covered with broken glass. Looking up at Keith again, he suddenly noticed sprays of red on the walls and curtains. Looking closer, he felt his stomach twist into an icy knot. "Oh my god," he breathed. There was blood literally spraying out of Keith's right wrist. "Keith," he yelled, grabbing his friend's shoulder. Keith turned a terrified, wide-eyed face at him.

"The window broke," he said dully, like he was a million miles away. "My hand went through it..." he trailed off, staring at his hand again.

Cursing, Dave sprang back to the bathroom long enough to grab a towel. Running to Keith, he put several folds of the towel over the cut on Keith's wrist and squeezed it as tight as he could. Every musician's worst nightmare was running through his head. If Keith had cut nerves or tendons he might never play again. But right now he had to stop the bleeding. There had to be at least one cut artery with the way Keith's wrist was bleeding.

Dave realized he was going to need help, and fast. He couldn't keep the pressure on and call for an ambulance, and there was a good chance Keith was going to pass out, either from blood loss or shock, soon. "Come ON, Keith," he cried, dragging Keith towards the connecting door to the next room, where he knew Colm and Emmet were. He knew Colm had had first aid training from when he worked as a camp counselor and from his mission trips. Thank God he and Keith had left their side of the connecting door open last night. Dave wasn't sure he'd be able to open it now.

He kicked at the door as hard as he could. "Colm! Emmet! Wake up, I need help in here! Keith's hurt!" He kept kicking and yelling until the door opened. Colm looked in and his eyes widened as he took in the scene before him. Keith, white as a sheet and covered in blood, Dave clamping a towel to Keith's wrist and looking terrified. He turned his head back over his shoulder and barked, "EMMET! NOW!" They heard a thud as Emmet sprang out of bed in response to Colm's tone of voice. He appeared at the doorway and went white himself.

"Help me get him on the bed," Colm said quickly. "We need to get his hand elevated and that way he won't fall if he passes out. What happened, Dave?"

"I don't know exactly. I heard a crash and a yell while I was in the bathroom. When I came out, there was glass all over the floor and he said his hand went through the window. Blood was just spraying out of his wrist."

"Damn. All right, one, two, three!" They got Keith onto the bed, lying down, Colm holding Keith's right arm straight up. "OK, Dave, I'll take over the pressure. Put some pillows under his legs. Em, go get Sharon, now, and the other guys. Dave, once his legs are up, call for an ambulance and then call the front desk to let them know it's coming in."

Dave followed orders, glad he wasn't in charge anymore. He wouldn't have thought of half the stuff Colm had already told him to do. Emmet took off down the hall at a dead run. They could hear him banging on a door, yelling "Sharon! EMERGENCY! We need you, NOW!"

Dave had dialed 911. "Yes, we need an ambulance at the Comfort Inn, Room 218. My friend's hand went through the window and his wrist is cut really badly. I think he got an artery, there's blood everywhere. Keith Harkin. He's 26. No, healthy. Yes, we have someone trained in first aid on the scene. Keith is lying down, his hand's elevated, pressure is being applied, his feet are elevated. Colm, is he conscious?"

Aye," Colm said, "but he's in shock. He's not really responsive." Dave relayed this to the operator. "They're on the way," he said.

Sharon came flying into the room. "Oh my god," she said, putting her hand over her mouth and looking at the blood-stained room and people. "How bad is it, Colm?"

"I don't know, Dave already had the towel on it when I got here, and I'm not about to take it off to see," he said. "I know it's his wrist and he has to have cut at least one artery with the way it's bleeding. Dave just finished calling for the ambulance, I told him to call the front desk next."

"I'll do that," Sharon said. "Colm, that towel's soaking through."

Colm swore. "Get me another one, Dave, quick." Dave grabbed another one from the bathroom, Colm put that over the first one, and used both hands to squeeze Keith's wrist as hard as he could.

"OWWW!" Keith yelled, trying to yank his hand away from Colm. "That hurts, you eejit!"

"I know it hurts, Keith! I have to, or you'll bleed to death. Now stay still, will you?" Colm yelled back.

George suddenly appeared at the end of the bed, sitting next to Keith's head. "Calm down, lad," he said soothingly. "We've got you. Here, squeeze as hard as you need to." He put his hand into Keith's left hand. Keith fixed his eyes on George's face. "I'm scared, George," he whispered. "I know, lad, we all are," George replied. "But we'll get you through it together."

In the background, they could hear Sharon on the phone. "Yes, room 218. The window broke and one of my performers has a badly cut wrist. The ambulance has already been called. Do you have a back way the crew can take him out? I don't want any fans seeing us going through the lobby. Good. Yes, the manager needs to come up here, and you'll need a major cleaning job after we've got him out."

She hung up the phone, and then they heard her call out urgently, "No, Ryan! Neil, get him out of here, he doesn't need to see this." Colm turned and saw Ryan standing shocked and breathless in the doorway, staring. "Neil, can you two keep people out of this hallway and keep the path from the elevator clear?" Colm called. "Em?"

"Aye, Colm?"

"Get those two situated and then I want you in the lobby to bring the ambulance crew up the elevator."

"Got it!" Emmet ducked out of the room again, helping Neil turn Ryan and guide him out. Once out in the hall, he pulled Ryan into a quick hug.

"Are you all right?" he asked Ryan. "We don't need you going away on us as well."

Ryan was breathing deeply, clinging to Neil's hand. "Yeah," he choked out. "I'll be OK. Overload."

"We know," Neil said. "Go on down to the lobby, Em, I've got Ryan." Emmet nodded and sprinted for the steps. Neil forced Ryan to look straight into his eyes. "OK. Ryan, he's going to be all right. We've got a job to do up here, we've got a crowd gathering and they're going to block the way from the elevator. Can you help me keep it under control?"

Ryan closed his eyes for a second and nodded, swallowing hard. "Good man," Neil said, "but I knew that anyway." The two started, together at first, explaining to onlookers that there was a medical emergency and asking them to please clear the area. After a few minutes, Ryan was able to stay at the elevator end while Neil worked the other end of the hallway. As other band and crew members woke up with the commotion, they sent them to huddle by the door of Sharon's room, telling them only that Keith was hurt and they'd explain later when the crowd was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Friends chapter 2

Emmet nearly flew down the stairs. He burst out on the first floor and ran into the lobby. People were staring at him, but he wasn't surprised, he'd probably stare at somebody running full-tilt through the lobby, too. He stopped at the main door, listening. He could faintly hear a siren in the distance. Good, they were coming. He closed his eyes, trying not to think about what might have happened to Keith's wrist.

"Excuse me, sir." A voice came from his right.

Emmet opened his eyes. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry, but you can't be in the lobby like that." It was one of the desk clerks.

"What?" Emmet didn't have time for this. The siren was getting louder.

"Sir, you can't be in the lobby in your underwear."

Emmet suddenly realized he had nothing on but his boxer shorts. Not that he cared right now. "As soon as that ambulance gets here, I'll be back upstairs," he said. "I wasn't about to stop to get dressed with my friend about to bleed to death."  
"Oh," The clerk looked startled. "I'm sorry, sir, but..."

The ambulance pulled up outside and the crew jumped out, grabbing the gurney from the back. The manager passed Emmet and spoke hurriedly to the driver about moving the rig to the back entrance. The driver nodded. "Can you get things started while I move the rig around back?" he called to his partner.

"Sure thing," the other paramedic said. As he started to maneuver the gurney through the door, he was startled to be joined by a man in his underwear who helped him steer the gurney.

"I'll take you to the room," the half-dressed man said in a thick accent. "This way." He helped pull the gurney into the elevator. "God, I'm glad you're here," he said. "I've never been so scared in my life."

"What happened?" said the paramedic as they rode up. "My friend put his hand through the window. His roommate woke us up to help," said the half-dressed man. The paramedic privately thought he wouldn't have bothered to put any clothes on in that case either.

The elevator door opened, and another man turned away from shooing some onlookers away and said, "Oh, thank God. This way, quickly!" He led them down the hall to another room where the door was open and ran in, then stopped, frozen. A woman in the room moved him out of the way. "Come on, Ryan, go back out with Neil."

The paramedic's first impression was chaos. The room looked like a tornado had hit it, there was blood everywhere, and there were several other men in shorts or boxers or pajama bottoms. Everyone was clearly in whatever they'd been sleeping in. He wondered if there'd been a fight. Then he decided it didn't matter, since things were obviously calm now. He moved over to the bed, where a blond man was lying, very pale and splattered with blood, and his hair every which way on his head. Another man was holding the blond man's right hand up in the air, applying pressure to towels on his wrist. A third man was seated by the blonde's head, holding his left hand, talking to him quietly, and stroking his hair.

The paramedic spoke to the man holding the blonde's hand up. "I'm Jim, I'm a paramedic. Are you OK to keep applying pressure while I do a quick check on him?"

"My hand's cramping," the other man said. "Dave, can you get this again?"

"Sure, Colm." The man called Dave came over and changed positions with Colm. As the pressure was briefly off the towels, they reddened quickly. Colm swore. "I was hoping it had slowed down a bit. Get that really tight, Dave."

"Got it," Dave said. Colm moved off, rubbing his hand to ease the cramp.

Jim turned his attention to his patient. It was clear he had some able assistants until his partner could get here. "What's your name, sir?" he said.

The blonde looked at him out of terrified eyes. "Keith Harkin."

"All right, Keith, I'm going to check your vital signs and see how you're doing."

"Crappy," Keith muttered.

Jim couldn't help grinning. He was glad his patient, while scared, wasn't so scared he'd lost his sense of humor. As he checked Keith over, the bald man sitting by Keith's head kept up a rhythmic stream of quiet speech. Jim realized the man was praying the rosary, and he could see Keith's lips forming the words as well. The other man had released Keith's left hand so that Jim could take Keith's blood pressure, but kept his other hand on Keith's head.

"Well, Keith," Jim said, "all things considered, you're not in bad shape. Your pulse and breathing are better than I would have expected given what's going on here, but your blood pressure is pretty low. I'm going to need to start an IV to get some fluids into you to replace the lost blood."

Keith grimaced. The man sitting by his head laughed softly. "I know you don't like needles, lad," he said, in yet another thick accent, "but if nothin' else it should ease your hangover a bit!" Keith made a face at him.

"Drinking last night?" said Jim.

"Aye, we had our Halloween party last night," said the man by Keith's head. "We're all a bit rough this mornin', and this lad isn't helpin' matters any!" He smiled fondly at Keith and tousled his hair.

"Get off, George!" Keith growled, but he was smiling as well.

"Keith, do you have any medication allergies or any medical problems I need to know about?" Jim asked.

"Nah. I'm pretty healthy usually."

"Just accident-prone," Dave tossed in. It was good to see Keith relaxing now that he knew help was here. Keith stuck his tongue out at Dave, making Jim laugh as he got his IV supplies ready. It was clear having his friends (or were they family? Jim didn't think so, given all the different accents) there was keeping Keith calm, and that was making Jim's job much easier. Since George had said Keith didn't like needles, Jim was going to use that to keep his attention occupied as he tried to get the IV in, knowing it might be difficult with as low as Keith's blood pressure already was.

As Jim scrubbed the inside of Keith's left elbow with an alcohol swab, he said to Keith, "So is George your father, then?"

"Not by blood," Keith said. "But he might as well be everybody's father on tour, that's how he treats us."

"On tour?" Jim said, still looking for a vein. "George, do you mind if he squeezes your hand again? It'll help pull a vein up for me to get."

"No problem," George said. "He'll not hurt me."

"Aye," Keith said, "we're a musical group on tour. Which I think I've just thrown a wrench into, haven't I, Sharon?" He winced as Jim inserted the needle, then tilted his head back to look at the only woman in the room.

"As usual," Sharon said. "Don't worry about it, somebody else can do your guitar parts. One thing we're not short of is guitar players. As long as you can still sing, we're fine. Good thing we've got a few days before the next show."

"Yeah," put in Colm from the other side of the room. "I don't need to learn anybody else's vocal parts, two are enough!"

Keith suddenly looked worried. "Is Ryan OK? I heard you send him out earlier."

"Neil's taken him out again," Sharon said. "Too much tension in here for him to cope with right now."

Jim didn't like the sound of that. "You're not going to give me another patient, are you?" he asked. "Until Bruce gets up here, I'm kind of tied up."

Sharon hurried to reassure him. "No, we can cope with Ryan. He's still recovering from an injury himself and he gets overwhelmed easily right now. We're used to it, the rest of the band and crew are with him, and they'll take care of him."

"Just let him see me before they take me to the hospital, Sharon," Keith requested. "No need to let him worry more than necessary." He sounded like he was worrying himself.

The other paramedic finally came through the doorway with the manager, who sucked in his breath at the sight of the room.

"Sorry, Jim," he said, "had to get a food truck to move before I could park the bus."

"Ok, guys," said Jim, "this is my partner, Bruce. Dave, I'm going to take over the pressure from you. Colm, can you hold the IV bag?"

"Got it," Colm said, climbing onto the bed next to Keith and leaning his elbow on George's shoulder.

Bruce's eyes widened. "Not sure why you needed me, Jim-bo," he said. "You've got some good assistants here, and you're already on a first name basis."

"They had things well under control when I got here," Jim said, flashing a smile around the room. "Made things a lot easier so far. But we've got to get a pressure bandage on that wrist, the bleeding's not slowing down much."

Bruce grimaced. "Ok," he said, looking around the room, "Anybody who can't handle blood should probably leave now."

"That's my cue," Keith joked, pretending he was going to get up, but raising his head made him so dizzy he dropped back down again and closed his eyes. "Maybe not." George looked down at him.

"Let's start that rosary again, lad, it'll keep you focused on somethin' else," he said gently. Keith nodded without opening his eyes. George started the prayer and Keith and Colm both joined in. Jim added his voice as he and Bruce prepared what they needed for the pressure bandage and got everything ready, which earned him a smile from George. Keith opened his eyes in surprise and looked at Jim, who simply nodded back at him, and then said gently, "You probably don't want to watch this, Keith."

Keith grimaced at the thought and turned towards George and Colm, fixing his eyes on their faces. Jim and Bruce had set up a face shield to block any blood from spraying towards the other men on the bed, knowing that having them there was the best thing for Keith right now. Bruce warned, "Keith, this is going to hurt, because we've got to get enough pressure on there to slow down the blood flow. Just hang in there." Working swiftly together with the ease of long practice, barely needing to talk to each other, the two paramedics removed the towels and rapidly got a pressure bandage on Keith's wrist. Even as fast as they worked, there was still a small pool of blood when they were done. Keith was grimacing in pain but keeping his eyes on George and Colm as they continued praying. Sharon had turned her back and only turned around when Bruce said, "OK, we're done. We can get you packaged and ready to roll."

Sharon spoke up. "Keith is a professional musician. I want a hand specialist to see him in the emergency room in case there is any damage to his nerves or tendons. Can you gentlemen call ahead and get someone in as soon as possible, please?"

"No offense, ma'am," said Jim, "but since Keith is conscious, it's his call."

"Sharon's right," Keith said immediately. "In any case, she's both my producer and my manager. I'd have said it myself but I've been trying not to think about it too much." He swallowed hard. "If I can't play..."

"Don't go there!" Colm said quickly. "I can't promise you it'll be all right, but keep thinking positive. Our luck's held so far, we got Ryan back in fine form. Nothing's to say we won't have you back perfectly fine as well."

"Where is Ryan?" Keith said. "He needs to know I'm OK."

"I don't want him in this room," Sharon said quickly. "You can't see it, but it looks like somebody got murdered in here."

"Once Keith's on the gurney, we can take him through the connecting door to our room and Ryan can see him there," Colm said.

"I have one other request," Keith said, and they were all surprised to see a faint version of his usual mischievous grin. "Will somebody please put some clothes on me and try to tame my hair a little?" All of them, even the paramedics, burst out laughing. Emmet stuck his head in the door.

"Hey now," he protested, "I ran down to the lobby in my boxers for you, I think you can take a little embarrassment as well!" Even as he said it, he was moving to Keith's suitcase. "God, man, you know how to make a mess out of a room. This place looked like a tornado hit it before you started bleeding all over it!" He rummaged through the suitcase and pulled out a pair of cut-off sweat pants and grabbed a pair of flip flops. "I don't think we're getting a shirt on you, mate, but we can at least make you decent." Bruce and Jim looked at each other as the guys managed to get Keith at least semi-dressed, grinning, because their squabbling sounded a lot like Bruce and Jim themselves. Sharon had gone off to get a little better dressed herself, as she was going to the hospital with Keith.

"Ok," Bruce said, "Before we get you up on the gurney here, I need to ask you two questions. I'm pretty sure both answers are no, but I have to ask." Keith turned his full attention to him, as did everyone else in the room. "First, is this injury the result of a fight?"

"No," Keith said. "I tried to open the window, but it jammed and then it shattered and my hand went through it."

"Given the state of the room, I had to ask," Bruce said. "Like your friends said, it looks like a tornado hit it."

"That's perfectly normal for Keith," Dave spoke up. "Any room he's in looks like this 5 minutes after he gets into it. I'm rooming with him this tour, I should know."

"OK," said Bruce. "Second question, and this one is really important, because it can affect what medications we can use for you. Have you been drinking or using drugs in the last 24 hours?"

"Drinking, yes," Keith said. "We had our Halloween party last night, and we're Irish -" "and Scottish" added George - "so yeah, we were drinking. I was drunk last night, but not so drunk I passed out. I got to bed under my own power. As for drugs, no way. I won't touch that stuff, none of us would."

"Good," said Bruce. "Sounds like our crew, eh, Jim?" Jim grinned back at him. "Ok," Bruce continued, "now to get you up on our rolling bed here. Since you couldn't skip out when I asked about the blood, you're not trying it on your own. We're going to lift you."

"If you don't mind, we'll handle that," George said. "I think Keith would prefer that, right, brother?"

"Aye," Keith said. "If they drop me, I can kick their butts later." He grinned.

George stood up, and Bruce and Jim suddenly realized how big he was. Neither one of them was small, but George was bigger than they were. "Emmet," George said, "you get his feet, I'll get his head. Colm..."

"I know," said Colm, "follow you with the bag."

Bruce and Jim brought the gurney over and locked the wheels. They put the head up slightly, and lowered the whole thing until it was about that height of the bed. George counted and Keith slid over smoothly. "You guys make a good team," Jim said approvingly.

"We have to," George said. "We're away from home for months at a time, this little traveling family of ours is all we have."

"Traveling circus, more like," said Colm, as Jim took the bag from him and hung it on the IV stand attached to the gurney.

"So speaks the newbie," said Keith, grinning. "Of course, Ryan described joining this mess as "running away to the circus" long before you ever came along, Colm."


	3. Chapter 3

Friends Chapter 3

As Bruce and Jim were cleaning up their supplies, Sharon came back into the room. "Keith," she said,  
"we're going to need your ID and such."

"Dave knows where it is. Can you get it, mate?"

"Sure," Dave said, going to where he knew Keith stashed his wallet and similar items in his luggage. "I'll come over to the hospital with you if you want." He took Keith's wallet and gave it to Sharon, then walked over to the gurney.

"Much as I'd like to have you there, I'm giving you a more important job," Keith said. "They're gonna have to move us out of this room. You're in charge of all my stuff, including the guitars."

"Aye, aye, sir!" said Dave, saluting Keith.

"Get outta here, ya pirate," Keith grinned. Looking up at Bruce and Jim, he said, "Are we ready to go?"

"Just about." They raised the gurney to its normal height and began maneuvering it through the connecting doorway. Once through, they stopped. Sharon came over to stand beside Keith.

"Do you want me to call anyone?" she said, "Your parents, Rebecca, David Foster?"

Keith thought for a moment, biting at his lower lip. As much as he wanted to call his family, he knew it would only worry them and that he'd mostly likely be back at the hotel almost before they could get a flight. "No," he said at last. "They'll only worry and they can't do anything. I'll call them once I find out how things are."

"What about David?" Sharon was concerned about making sure that Keith got the best of care, and David Foster, the CEO of the record label Keith was signed to as a solo artist, was in a better position to pull strings if needed. She knew Keith would normally have followed this train of thought and known what she meant, but she'd spell it out if she had to. Fortunately, it wasn't necessary.

"Yes," Keith said. "That's a good idea. I'd appreciate, it, Sharon."

Colm stuck his head in the doorway from the hall, having taken a moment to grab his keycard from the room while they were getting Keith ready to go. He figured most of the rest of CT were probably going to need to be let back into their rooms by the manager, as he doubted any of them had thought to grab their key cards as they responded to the calls for help. "Keith, are you ready to see Ryan? I've got him out here."

"Yeah," Keith said. "Send him in, Colm."

Bruce and Jim stood back to give them a little space as the man who had guided them from the elevator to the room came in. Jim gave him a quick professional once-over, remembering what Sharon had said, and nodded to himself. The man was clearly stressed, and Jim could see the hint of blankness in his eyes that told him Ryan was recovering from a brain injury and fighting to keep things together at the moment.

Ryan came over to Keith's left side, staring at him, but not able to say anything. Keith carefully lifted his arm, trying not to shift the IV needle, and cupped his hand around the back of Ryan's head. "I'm OK, Ryan," he said gently. "I'm gonna be fine. I was hoping I'd never see that look in your eyes again, I'm sorry I put it there."

Ryan found his voice, but it was hesitant and very rough. "When Emmet woke us and said you were hurt, all I could think of was my accident and what I put you guys through. I didn't think we could handle another one."

"We're not going to need to," Keith said firmly. "Mostly likely I'll be back here later today with a bunch of stitches and that'll be it. That's nothing new for me, you know that."

"I know," Ryan said with one of his sideways grins. "Seeing you helps. I'll be OK now that I've talked to you."

"I know," said Keith, "that's why I told Sharon I wasn't leaving until I saw you. Is it going to help you if you come to the hospital with me?"

Ryan shuddered. "No," he said firmly. "I don't remember being in the emergency room myself, but I don't want to be back in a hospital again yet."

Keith gave Ryan a gentle shove and dropped his arm back down to the gurney. "I didn't think you'd want to, but I had to ask. Take care of yourself until I get back, OK? I'll see you then and you can make sure I came through it OK."

"It's a deal," Ryan said, squeezing Keith's hand. "Might send up a few prayers for you."

"Can't hurt," Keith grinned. "I did my share of it when you were hurt. All right, guys," he said to Bruce and Jim, "let's get this show on the road."

As they went out the door into the hallway, the rest of the CT family stayed out of the way, but it was clear they were relieved to see Keith alert and talking to them as he went. He kept reassuring them that he was going to be OK, but once the elevator doors had closed behind them, he dropped his head back against the pillow with a sigh, looking completely wiped out. Sharon gave him a motherly pat on the shoulder. "I know that was hard, but it was what they needed. Don't try to con me, I know you're hurting and you don't feel good. I deputized George to get everybody up to speed, and I told him that he's not to let more than four come to the emergency room, or they'll all be there clogging the place up. Is there anybody in particular that you want to have come? I can text him and let him know."

"George, Colm, and Laura," Keith said. "That's enough, tell him no more."

"All right." Sharon sent a quick text. "Although I doubt he has his phone on him," she said. "As I was leaving, they were all starting to ask the manager to let them back into their rooms, nobody thought to grab their cards!"

"Where would they have put them?" Keith asked with a faint grin. "You guys must have thought we were all nuts running around in our underwear," he said to Bruce and Jim.

"Nah, just too ready to respond to think about unimportant things like clothes," Bruce said. "We know all about that, Jim here had to sleep in his uniform when he was on duty for a couple of months or he'd try to get into the rig in his underwear! Not really what you need when you're going to pick up elderly ladies with heart problems." Jim gave him a dirty look, but then laughed along with Keith and Sharon.

Meanwhile, George had gotten the manager to open his room, and had brought all the CT folks in there so they could talk in private after they all got their own cards. He told them what he knew of Keith's injury, and then said, "Colm and Laura, Keith wants us to come to the hospital, but he said no more, and Sharon forbade more than four of us from going in the first place. I'll send updates back as soon as we find out anything, and I'll let you know when we're on our way back."

"How are you going to get there and back?" asked Seana.

"The manager said the hotel would take care of it, because of the way Keith got hurt," George said. "When we're done there, they'll send a van back to bring us back here. The three of us need to get ready to go, the rest of you look after Ryan and take care of each other."


	4. Chapter 4

Friends Chapter 4

As Bruce and Jim eased the gurney out the back way towards the ambulance, they grew increasingly concerned about their patient. As animated as Keith had been a few moments before, he was now completely silent and his eyes were closed. They looked at Sharon, who was watching Keith with concern, but who didn't appear to be scared or upset. As Jim got the gurney into position by the back of the ambulance, Bruce went around to the front to start the engine, and beckoned Sharon to come with him.

"You know Keith better than we do," he said quietly, "and you don't look too concerned that he's completely shut down. Is this his normal reaction to an injury or illness?"

"This is pretty typical," Sharon confirmed. "He'll use every ounce of energy he has to convince everybody around him that whatever is going on is no big deal, or until he gets done what he has to get done, and then he crashes. The fact that he kept asking if we were ready to go told me he was getting close to the end of what he could handle. I'm more worried about his mental state, he actually told George he was scared, and that's something Keith will almost never admit."

"Got it," Bruce said. He went around back to help Jim lever the gurney into the back of the ambulance and lock it down. He pulled him aside for a moment to tell him what Sharon had said. "Just keep a close watch on him, Jim. That shut-down could hide symptoms we need to see."

Meanwhile, Sharon had put through a call to David Foster. "Good morning, Sharon," he said. "Given the early hour, I'm assuming this isn't a social call. Is everything OK?"

"No," Sharon replied. "Keith accidently put his hand through a window this morning."

"Oh, no," David gasped. "How bad is it?"

"We don't really know yet, we're just getting him into the ambulance now. We're pretty sure there's a cut artery in his wrist, and he's lost a lot of blood. We've already requested that a hand specialist see him in the emergency room; I just wanted you to be aware in case we need more leverage for that than I can apply."

"Of course," David said. "Let me know immediately if you need any assistance with that. How's he handling it?"

"Kept up a good front until we got away from everybody, and now he's completely shut down. He's admitted he's scared, but he hasn't really said anything else yet."

"I don't like that," David said worriedly. "Keep me up to date, will you?"

"Absolutely. I need to go, we're about to pull out. I'll update you as soon as I can."

As Sharon climbed into the passenger side of the cab, Bruce was radioing into the emergency room. "This is Unit 17, in-bound, ETA approximately 15 minutes. Patient is a 26-year-old male with a severe right wrist laceration, probable arterial involvement."

"Reading you," the person on the other end replied.

Bruce continued, "Our patient is a professional musician who is currently on tour. He has requested that a hand specialist see him in the emergency room to assess any nerve or tendon damage. He will only be in the area for another few days and will need to travel on with the rest of his band."

"I'll page Dr. Kuntz," came the voice over the radio. "I believe he is doing rounds in the hospital at the moment."

"Thanks," said Bruce. "Over." He turned to Sharon. "Doctor Kuntz is one of the best; if you'd asked me for a recommendation, he's who I would have suggested."

In the back of the ambulance, Jim was getting Keith settled for the ride and checking his vital signs again. His blood pressure was better now that he was getting fluid to replace the blood he'd lost, but his heart rate and breathing rate were also increasing and his body was very tense. Jim was sure that, as glad as Keith was to be away from everyone, he was having more trouble coping without his friends there to back him up.

"Keith," he said quietly. "Are you in pain?" Keith didn't open his eyes, but he nodded. "Your wrist?" Jim asked.

"Some," Keith said quietly. "And my head."

"Do you want some pain meds?"

"No, I don't want them," Keith said opening his eyes. "But I know I need them. Just don't give me anything that's going to make me sleepy; I need to be able to stay alert to talk to the doctors."

Jim radioed ahead and spoke briefly with the doctor on call in the ER, then prepared an injection. "Don't worry," he said," I don't have to stick you again. I can put this in through the IV. It'll work faster that way, anyway. Give it a few minutes."

Keith closed his eyes again. After a few minutes he sighed, and his body relaxed. Opening his eyes, he said, "Thanks. That's a lot better."

"No problem," Jim said with a smile. Wanting to keep Keith talking and not worrying about himself, he said, "Your friend Ryan had a brain injury, didn't he? I saw the look you were talking about."

"Aye," Keith said. "In June. We almost lost him, he was in a coma for 3 weeks."

"And he's well enough to be out on tour with you?" Jim said, surprised. "When did you start the tour?"

"Beginning of September," Keith said. "But he was back with us for rehearsals at the beginning of August."

"How's he holding up?" Jim asked.

"Today's the first time he's even come close to overloading in over a month," Keith said. He frowned. "I don't like it that I threw him back into that."

Jim grinned. "Overloading. That's a good word for it. Don't blame yourself, you couldn't help what happened, and you did a lot for him by keeping yourself focused like that. I could see he was fighting it, but he held it together. He was doing crowd control in the hall when we came up the elevator."

"Really?" Keith looked at him. "That trick of Colm's worked, then giving him a job to do. Come to think of it, if it hadn't been for Ryan's accident, I might be in a lot worse shape right now. "

"How's that?" Jim asked.

"The only reason Colm's on tour with us this year is because he was brought along as Ryan's understudy," said Keith. "Originally, he wasn't supposed to start touring with us until next fall. If he hadn't been there this morning..." he trailed off.

Jim wanted to steer Keith away from that thought. "So he's just riding along understudying? How often has he had to go on?"

"Oh, he's been on every night," Keith grinned. "But singing his own parts, not Ryan's. Ryan hasn't missed even one song." He shook his head. "When I think where Ryan was 3 months before the tour started, and where he is now, I have to believe in miracles. I just hope we have another one to spare." He looked down at his wrist. "I can't imagine not being able to play."

"What do you play?" Jim asked. "Guitar, obviously, since you told Dave to take charge of them. Anything else?"

"Acoustic and electric guitar, electric bass, and banjo," Keith said. "But I'm only doing acoustic in this show. George, Colm, Neil, and Ryan all play acoustic as well, so we've got plenty of back-up for that, like Sharon said."

"And she said as long as you could still sing, you would be fine with the tour," pointed out Jim.

"It's not so much the tour I'm worried about," Keith said. "I've also got a contract as a solo artist, my first solo album came out about 6 weeks ago. I got that contract partly because of my guitar work."

"Even if there is any damage," Jim said, "they're getting pretty good at repairs for stuff like this. It would set you back for a long time, but you'd eventually be able to play again, I'm sure. I know that doesn't sound so good right now, but it's better than assuming you'd never play again."

"That's true," Keith said. But Jim noticed that he was getting very fidgety, his left hand picking at the sheet covering the gurney.

"You all right?" Jim asked, nodding at Keith's left hand. "That hand is getting pretty agitated."

Keith laughed. "I can never sit still for long unless I've got a guitar in my lap," he said. When I don't, I'm always picking at my fingernails and stuff. I can't even do that right now, and it's making me antsy."

"I can fix that," Jim said. He pulled open one of the drawers in the side of the ambulance and took out a small ball that seemed to be made of brightly colored, crinkly fabric. "Bruce and I play around with this when we have to wait to go into a scene because it's not safe. Neither one of us can stand having to wait like that." He handed it to Keith, who, the moment he touched it, got a look of surprise on his face. It looked like fabric, but it felt rubbery. As he turned it around in his nimble fingers, he found an edge and suddenly realized that, even though the stuff wasn't sticky, or fuzzy like Velcro, it stuck to itself, and he could pull it apart. It was stretchy, too, and it seemed that the little crinkles somehow locked into each other. It came apart in sections about an inch wide and of varying lengths. Keith found that he could roll it back together one-handed as easily as unrolling it, since it seemed to grab onto itself. Jim watched, amused, as Keith totally forgot, at least briefly, what was going on as he investigated the odd material.

"What the heck is this stuff?" Keith said at last. "I've never seen anything like it."

"It's a non-adhesive elastic bandage," Jim said. "It was originally developed for veterinary work, but it didn't take long for it to cross over into human medicine. No sticky residue, it's reusable for a long time, and it's really versatile. Those are the leftover bits of rolls that aren't long enough to actually use. It's good for fidgeting with or for playing hacky-sack with, for that matter."

"You guys must have the same kind of minds we do," Keith said, grinning at Jim. "We're always finding stuff to play around with when we're bored. Used drumheads make great frisbees, we found out. And then there's Willis."

"Willis?" said Jim,

"Yeah," Keith laughed. "I don't know where the name came from. Willis is a ball of rolled up electrical tape that we play with backstage a lot. Normally it's football the guys are playing, but Ryan's not allowed to in case he accidently heads it, so they found this ball of tape and now we play with that instead."

"Oh, soccer/football," Jim said. "I was lost there for a second, figuring out how you would head an American football. Hey, I got so caught up in this conversation I lost track of where we were. We're here." The ambulance was pulling up outside the emergency room door.

"I did, too," said Keith, surprised. "Thanks a lot." He held the ball of bandages out to Jim.

"You keep that one," Jim said. "You've got a lot more time that you're going to have to sit still yet. We've got a few more floating around."

Sharon came hurrying around the back of the ambulance as Jim and Bruce got Keith out. She was surprised to see him looking so relaxed. "What did you do?" she said to Jim.

"Gave him a toy," said Jim, grinning a smile that almost matched Keith's. "And some pain meds."

"Oh, well, that explains it," Sharon said, laughing. Keith pulled her over and whispered in her ear. She looked down at him and said, "Absolutely." Then she turned to Bruce and Jim. "If you gentlemen give me your names, I'll hold seats for you at our concert in two days. All you'll need to do is come to the Will Call office."

"You don't need to do that," Bruce started to protest.

"I know we don't, but Keith wants you to come and see what we do, and you've made a bad situation a lot easier to deal with."

"All right," they both said, as they started to take Keith in through the door.


	5. Chapter 5

Friends Chapter 5

As they headed in through the door, they were greeted by an older nurse. "Hi, guys," she said. "Room 3, OK? I'll be in in just a minute."

"No problem, Sara," Jim said. They turned into the door of Room Three and parked the gurney next to the table, adjusting the heights so they were level and at a good height for Bruce and Jim to work. Bruce said, "Keith, if you had an arm you could use to help we'd let you slide yourself over, but I don't want you shifting that IV by putting that much weight on your left hand. Let us do the work, OK?"

"All right," Keith said, and let the two shift him smoothly over to the table. Sharon watched as they made short work of moving the IV bag over to another stand and getting Keith settled. "Comfortable?" Bruce asked.

"I'm cold, actually," Keith said.

"Some of that's the blood loss, but it usually is pretty chilly in here," Jim said. "Hang on a second, I'll be right back." He ducked out of the room and came back a few minutes later carrying two blankets and a pair of slipper socks. He handed the blankets to Bruce, who put one over Keith's legs and had him sit forward so he could put one around his shoulders. Meanwhile Jim put the slipper socks on Keith's feet. "Better?" he said, when he was done.

"Yeah," Keith said, grinning. "They feel like they just came out of the dryer or something." Curious, Sharon touched the blankets and found they were warm.

"Took them out of the warmer drawer," Jim said. "Can't have you getting hypothermic on top of everything else."

Keith looked at them seriously. "You guys have been amazing," he said. "Please come to the concert? I'd like to see you again."

"I checked the schedule and we're off that night," Bruce said. "Wouldn't miss it."

The nurse, Sara, came in. "So who do you have for me, boys?" she said.

"This is Keith Harkin," Bruce said. "26, professional musician with a badly lacerated right wrist due to his hand going through a window. He's a bit hung over due to a party last night, but otherwise coherent. He's had one dose of pain meds" and he gave the name of the medication and the dosage. "He's on his first bag of fluids. Blood loss at the scene was fairly extensive but under control when we arrived."

"Not a very nice morning, then," said Sara. "Hi, Keith, I'm Sara, your nurse. I see these guys have gotten you taken care of as far as keeping you comfortable and occupied." She pointed at the ball of bandages that Keith was rolling around in his left hand. Keith nodded. "Who is this with you?" she said, looking at Sharon.

"Sharon, my producer and manager," Keith said. "She needs to hear everything that the doctors tell me."

"No problem," Sara said. "Now of course you know we've got some paperwork to take care of. Dr. Kuntz said he would be done with rounds and down to see you in about half an hour. He's usually pretty accurate with his time estimations unless one of his post-surgical patients is having problems. I'll send in one of the medical records folks to get you signed in. Do you need anything at the moment?"

"Something to eat?" Keith said. Sharon smothered a laugh. "I know you're feeling better if you're asking for food," she said.

"Sorry," Sara said, "that's probably the one thing I can't do for you. If you do need surgery for that wrist, it's better if your stomach is empty when you go under the anesthesia."

"On that note," Jim said, "we have to pull out of here, Keith. If we get back in here later, we'll check in on you if we can."

Sharon and Keith thanked the two paramedics again and then got down to the task of getting all the paperwork dealt with. By the time they were done, George had texted Sharon to let her know that they had arrived and were in the waiting area. Sharon looked at Keith and said, "Who do you want in here first? We should probably keep it to two people; this room isn't very big."

"Colm and Laura," Keith said. "Once the doctor gets here, I want you and George in here."

"That's pretty much what I'd figured," Sharon said. "Hang in there, we'll get through this like we always do." She left to go out to meet the others and update them on what little had happened so far.

A few minutes later, Colm and Laura came in. "How are you holding up, Harks?" Colm asked.

"Better since I got some pain meds," Keith said. "And something to fidget with." He showed them the little ball of bandages. "The paramedics gave it to me," he explained.

"Sounds like they figured you out pretty quick, "Laura laughed.

"Yeah. I like them, they're great guys. They're coming to the concert as well," Keith said, smiling.

Laura sat down on the left side of the table, next to Keith's head. He immediately shifted his upper body over so that he could lean his head against her. She snaked her arm under his neck so that she could wrap it around his shoulders, and he settled in with a sigh. Laura smiled. She knew this was why Keith had asked for one of the women to come along - not necessarily her, any of them would have done. One of Keith's many child-like traits was this need for physical comfort and contact when he was hurt, ill, or upset. Had they been in Ireland, or in the closed world of the CT family, he'd have looked for and received the same comfort from one of the other men without hesitation had the women not been around, but they all knew that too many Americans took this kind of physical contact to mean a romantic or sexual link, and they didn't need rumors starting that might unsettle some of their fan base. Having Laura there made it easier for all of them, and the last thing Keith needed right now was any hassle like that. Nonetheless, Colm pulled the other chair over next to Laura and sat down, putting his own hand on Keith's as well.

"Thanks, guys," Keith said. "Colm, if you hadn't been there this morning, I don't know what would have happened." 

"I'm just glad I could help," Colm said.

Laura nodded. "It was pretty awful knowing you were hurt and not being able to do anything," she said. "All Neil and Ryan told us was that it was you and that the ambulance was on the way - they didn't want bystanders hearing any details. The rest of us didn't have any idea how you were until you came out on the way to the ambulance. It was good to see you awake and talking, I'll tell you. Then George got us all together and told us what had happened."

"How was Ryan handling it?" Keith said worriedly. "He was really struggling when Colm brought him in to talk to me."

"He'll be all right," Colm said. "Neil went back to the room with him to see if he could go back to sleep, but if not, Declan was going to take him for a run. They'll make sure he's not alone until he's back to normal."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while until Sara came back in to check on Keith. She smiled when she saw him cuddled up to Laura. "That should help as much as anything we can do here," she said. "At least until Doctor Kuntz gets here. Looks like you're ready for another bag of fluids," and she bustled around, changing the empty bag for a new one. "The doctor should be here in about 10 minutes," she said as she left again.

"When he gets here, will you send Sharon and George back in?" Keith asked. "Absolutely," Laura said. "I knew you'd want George here for that part, we all do!"


	6. Chapter 6

Friends chapter 6

They sat in comfortable, if nervous, silence for another 10 minutes. Then Sara returned with Sharon and George in tow. "I remembered that you said Sharon was to be here when the doctor came in, and this gentleman said you'd asked for him as well. Dr. Kuntz is just reading over the ambulance records and he'll be in any moment."

"Thanks," Keith said.

"We'll head out to the waiting area," Colm said, squeezing Keith's hand. Laura gave him a quick squeeze. As soon as she got up, George sat down in her chair and put his hand into Keith's. "All right, lad," he said. "Time to find out what's going on. I'm right here for whatever you need."

Keith ducked his head against George's shoulder for a moment before straightening himself up as a dark-haired man walked into the room with Sara. He appeared hardly older than Keith, but had a firm, confident manner about him.

"I'm Doctor Kuntz," he said. "Board-certified hand surgeon. I've been reading over the records the ambulance crew left us, and it seems you have had a rough morning. I know, given your profession, that you're probably seriously worried right now, so I'm going to get right down to work and hope we can set your mind at ease."

"Thanks," Keith said seriously. "I appreciate you coming down so fast. We're on tour, we've only got two more days here, so if I need any surgery it has to get done quickly." He swallowed hard. "I'm a guitarist, among other things, and I'm right-handed. So I'm kind of messed up if this is bad." Then, remembering his manners, he introduced Sharon as his manager and George as one of his bandmates.

"Nice to meet all of you," Dr. Kuntz said. He gently picked up Keith's right hand, feeling it and looking at his nails. "Well, I can give you one piece of good news right away. While I don't doubt from the ambulance records that you have damaged at least one artery, I can assure you that you haven't completely severed one. Your hand is warm and the color is good, which tells me that you are still getting adequate blood flow to your hand. If that hadn't been the case, the ambulance crew would have alerted the hospital, and you'd have been rushed right through here and into emergency surgery. "

Keith let out a sigh of relief. "I didn't even think of that," he said, "but it's good to know that part's OK."

Dr. Kuntz smiled. "Sometimes it's better not to have TOO much medical background when something like this happens, you start worrying about stuff you might not need to," he said. "Now, have you tried to move your hand at all?"

"No," said Keith. "I was afraid it would make the bleeding worse."

"Smart decision. I'm not going to ask you to do that just yet." At that moment another doctor, a young black man, came to the door and knocked on the edge of it. "I'm sorry, Dr. Kuntz," he said, "I was delayed."

"Ah, Dr. Murray," Dr. Kuntz replied. He introduced Dr. Murray as a final-year resident studying hand surgery. "Is it all right with you if he assists me?" he asked Keith. "I need a second pair of hands for part of this, and he's nearly done his training - and very talented, I might add." Keith looked at Sharon and she nodded.

"That's fine," Keith said. Dr. Murray was introduced to everyone and filled in quickly on the case.

"All right, Keith, the first thing we are going to do is to check to make sure the sensation in your hand is normal. Since the nerves that carry feeling and the nerves that carry motor impulses run right beside each other, if your sensation is intact, it means there is a better chance you've escaped any nerve damage. And of course, as you know, you need to be able to feel what you're doing with your fingers, so sensory nerve damage is something that would need to be corrected."

"OK, "Keith replied. "I have felt every time anyone's touched my hand, and it doesn't feel numb or anything."

"That's good, but we're going to go a lot more in depth. I'm going to be checking not only your ability to generally feel a touch, but what kind of touch - warm/cold, sharp/dull, location on your hand, passive movement of your fingers, whether you are being touched at two points or only one. There may be times when I ask you if you feel anything that I WON'T be touching you, so if you don't feel anything when I ask, don't panic. Just let me know if you don't feel it, and answer my questions as to what you do feel. Dr. Murray, we'll need to keep in mind that Keith is a guitarist and has some fairly extensive callusing on his fingertips, so that will decrease his sensation slightly from what we might expect there. If it was his left hand, that would be even more of an issue."

"Yes, I see," said Dr. Murray, examining Keith's left and right hand fingertips. "You do a lot of finger-picking, then, I suppose?" he said to Keith.

"Aye, depending on what I'm playing," he said. "Do you play?"

"Keyboards only," said Dr. Murray with a grin. Looking at Dr. Kuntz and receiving a nod, he said, "Keith, you'll need to keep your eyes shut while we're testing, and please, no cues from the audience." Sharon and George laughed, and George jokingly put his other hand over Keith's eyes. "Hey, that's kind of good," Keith said. "The light was bothering me anyway." They all laughed.

The sensory testing went on for what felt like forever, and of course Keith had no idea how he was doing, although he was definitely feeling a lot of different sensations. George, and Sharon, of course, knew that he was getting everything right, and they were feeling more encouraged by the minute. Finally they were done, and George took his hand off Keith's eyes. He opened them to see a lot of smiling faces. "Passed with flying colors!" Dr. Kuntz said. "Your sensation is completely intact."

"Two down," Keith said with a smile. "What's next?"

"Give me my hand back so I can update everybody, will you?" George said.

"Sorry," Keith laughed, suddenly realizing how hard he'd been squeezing George's hand. George sent a quick text to Colm and to Neil, "Doctor is here. Blood flow good to hand, and sensation is good too."

"Who are you texting to?" asked Dr. Murray, curious.

"The 30-some people back at the hotel worrying," said George. "The other singers, band and crew."

"Oh!" Dr. Murray said, startled. "I didn't realize there were so many of you!"

"Yes," Sharon said. "I told them no more than 4 could come here, or we'd have the whole waiting room filled up."

"Well, obviously touring is a bigger concern than I thought," Dr. Kuntz said. "I was thinking 4 or 5 band members and a couple of crew! Well, let's not keep them worrying any longer than necessary. Next thing we check is the muscles in your hand itself; that will tell us if any of the motor nerves have been interrupted."

"O-kay," said Keith hesitantly. "What do I need to do?"

"It's not that bad," said Dr. Kuntz. "The first thing I want you to do is spread your fingers out like you're showing the number 5, and then pull them all back in again. Don't try to bend them, just keep them straight."

Keith slowly and carefully tried it, and let out a huge sigh of relief as his fingers did what he told them to, without pain. Encouraged, he said, "What's next?"

"This time," Dr. Kuntz said, demonstrating as he spoke, "I want you to touch the tip of your thumb to the base of each finger, right where the finger joins into your hand. Again, you're not trying to bend or touch the finger, just the top of your palm under each finger."

This was a little bit harder, partly because some of the bandage crossed up onto Keith's palm and got in the way. Still, he was able to move at least in the general direction he was supposed to. "Three down?" he said, looking at Dr. Kuntz.

"Yes. Now we get to the part where I need Dr. Murray's help. I need to get a look under the bandage, inside your wrist itself." Dr. Kuntz watched Keith carefully. His patient went slightly paler, but then took a deep breath and said, "Does that mean I start bleeding again?" He was now squeezing George's hand very tightly.

'You probably will bleed a bit," Dr. Kuntz said. "Sara will be here helping to keep the area clear so I can see, and Dr. Murray is going to use a pneumatic tourniquet to stop the blood flow briefly so that I can look carefully."

"Hold on," Sharon said. "It sounds like you're going to be deliberately cutting off the blood flow to his hand. Is that safe?"

"That's exactly what I need to do," Dr. Kuntz said. "We'll be using something similar to a blood pressure cuff to put enough pressure on your forearm to block the blood flow. The key thing here is that it's temporary - the blood flow will be stopped for no more than a minute or so at a time, and then we'll release the pressure and let blood back into your hand for a few minutes before we stop it again. It's exactly what I will be doing if I have to operate on your hand - obviously I can't operate if I can't see what I'm doing because of bleeding."


	7. Chapter 7

Friends, Chapter 7

Keith closed his eyes for a moment in thought. He didn't like the idea of what was about to happen, but at the same time, he NEEDED to know what had happened to his wrist - and the long process of finding out was wearing him down. He felt Sharon's hand on his shoulder. She knew, too, what the waiting, especially waiting without being able to move around, was doing to him. He took a deep breath, opened his eyes, looked directly at Dr. Kuntz, and said firmly, "All right, let's get this over with."

"OK," said Dr. Kuntz. "We're going to get things set up. First, I need to give you several injections of a local anesthetic. That's going to require taking the pressure bandage off, but we'll keep manual pressure on the wound until we're ready to start working." Sara had been getting out syringes and packets of sterile supplies as he spoke. She put on gloves and a gown, and then came to stand by Keith's right side as Dr. Kuntz prepared to release the bandage. Dr. Kuntz cut the bandage loose and immediately it began to redden. Sara placed her hand directly over the red area, pressing hard, and Keith gritted his teeth at the pain. "Three sticks," Dr. Kuntz said, "and then a few minutes for the area to numb up thoroughly."

"Go for it," Keith said, ducking his head and holding on to George's hand for all he was worth. He felt the three injections all too clearly. Then finally a welcome numbness began to spread through his wrist and into his hand, and he began to relax.

"Wow," he said. "That wasn't fun."

"I'm sure it wasn't," Dr. Kuntz said sympathetically. Meanwhile, Dr. Murray was setting up the pneumatic tourniquet, and Dr. Kuntz was scrubbing his hands, and getting his gloves and gown on. "We're setting up a sterile field that we'll work in," he explained to everyone as drapes were set up covering the treatment table and all of Keith's hand except a small opening over his wrist. "Are we ready?" he asked Dr. Murray.

"Inflating the tourniquet now," Dr. Murray said. Keith felt an intense pressure on his forearm. "All right, release the manual pressure," he said to Sara. She pulled the remains of the pressure bandage away, dropping them onto the floor, and quickly grabbed clean gauze squares. There was a small amount of blood oozing from the v-shaped cut on Keith's wrist, but it was minimal.

"Excellent," said Dr. Kuntz. He flipped his head, causing a set of magnifying glasses that he had put on to flip down in front of his eyes. He carefully reached in, moved the flap of loosened skin, and probed under it. "Ah, now that's interesting," he said. "Not at all what I expected, but I'm not complaining. Dr. Murray, will you look and confirm my findings, please?"

Dr. Murray took the magnifying glasses from Dr. Kuntz and put them over his own eyes, looking through them into the wound as Dr. Kuntz pointed things out. "Yes, I see!" he said. "Amazing!"

"All right," said Dr. Kuntz, "let's replace the manual pressure and release the tourniquet." Keith felt the pressure come off his arm with relief.

"So what's so amazing?" he said, impatient now. Sharon squeezed his shoulder.

"You are either one very lucky man or someone upstairs is looking out for you," said Dr. Kuntz. "I'm not quite sure how you managed it, but that glass somehow put small nicks in BOTH of the major arteries to your hand, but completely bypassed the tendons that run directly over and beside them."

Keith looked at him, wide-eyed. "You mean there's no damage to the tendons?" he finally said.

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean," Dr. Kuntz said. "The odds against it are astronomical, but there you are."

Keith relaxed so thoroughly that it was like he'd deflated. He closed his eyes and murmured, "Thank God." George echoed him, but also took the opportunity to free his hand and send the news out: "NO DAMAGE to tendons or nerves! Small cuts to the arteries only!" In a moment, they heard faintly from the waiting room a wild yelp of joy, and Keith started giggling suddenly. He looked at George. "You sent that to Colm, didn't you?"

George nodded, grinning. "I reckon the hotel figures a bomb just went off or something," he said, laughing. "I'm surprised we can't hear them from here."

"Well, we've still got to get these arteries fixed," Dr. Kuntz said. They could tell he was smiling behind his mask. "And I need something firmly understood before I start this process." His voice became quite stern, and Keith, George and Sharon sobered immediately and looked at him attentively.

"Once this is stitched up, you aren't completely out of the woods yet," he said. "Because of where the arterial cuts are located, you CANNOT move your wrist or the arterial stitches will pull loose. Once everything is stitched, I'm putting you in a wrist brace that you will need to wear night and day for a full week. After that week, you may take it off once a day, only long enough to clean and rebandage the wound, for another full week. Only after two weeks may you take it off and start using your hand normally again. And NO guitar playing for the full two weeks. Understood?"

Keith gulped. This was more than he'd expected, but it made sense. He started mentally counting in his head - yes, the gig at Poor David's was two weeks away. He wouldn't have to cancel it, he hoped. Dr. Kuntz was waiting for an answer, and so was Sharon, looking at him sternly.

"Understood," he said.

"Good," said Sharon, getting out her phone. "I'm telling Davie to put your guitars in the truck with the other instruments, and telling everyone that they are NOT to loan you any instruments. This is one rule you're not charming your way out of."

"I won't!" Keith protested, but Sharon shook her head at him. "Even with the best intentions in the world," she said, "I know you too well. If you have access to a guitar, you won't be able to resist trying something out. I'm putting everybody on guard duty."

Keith hung his head. He knew she was right, but two weeks suddenly felt like a year. "All right," he said finally.

Dr. Kuntz had let them get this little drama out of the way, but now he was all business. "Let's get these arteries stitched up," he said, "and then I'm going to have Dr. Murray do the skin closure and give you your discharge instructions."

The stitching-up process was probably the least stressful of all the things that had happened so far. Within 20 minutes, Keith had a neat row of stitches on his wrist, which was then bandaged, with Colm watching as well so that several people would know how to redo the bandages when needed, and put into a black elastic brace with metal pieces from his forearm into his palm and over the back of his hand. The brace slid on over his hand and closed with straps around his hand and several places on his wrist. Dr. Murray reviewed his discharge instructions - keep the brace on, keep the dressings dry, use ice or over the counter medications for pain, exercises to keep his fingers moving so they didn't stiffen. Since the tour would be in Texas before his stitches could come out, he was given a prescription and information to take to an urgent care center wherever he was to have the stitches removed. He was given written instruction for everything, and picture instructions for the exercises. He was also given extra bandage material so that the bandages could be redone after a week or if they got wet beforehand. He was also instructed to relax for a few days, drink plenty of fluids, and eat plenty of protein to help replace the blood he'd lost - and told that even though they'd replaced the volume with fluid, it would take several days before he was back up to normal. By the time they were done, Keith was exhausted and hungry, and more than ready to leave.


	8. Chapter 8

Friends chapter 8

By the time they got back to the hotel, Keith was almost asleep in the van. George and Colm had to support him for a few minutes until he finally woke up enough to walk without stumbling. The three other singers had taken the liberty of ordering from room service and had enough food for all of them in George and Ryan's room. Keith made himself eat, knowing he needed to, and then Davie took him to their new room. Keith was asleep almost before he hit the bed, and Davie went back to the others.

"So the doctor said everything was fine?" Dave said to George. He'd been worrying himself sick about how Keith would handle not being able to play if there was major damage.

"Aye," George said. "No damage to anything but the arteries, somehow. But Keith's not allowed to play at all for 2 weeks, and we've got to make sure he sticks to that. The doctor said if he's not careful he could tear the stitches out of the arteries."

"THAT'S going to be fun," said Neil. "I can't imagine not touching a guitar for 2 weeks, and Keith plays more than I do." They all knew he was right. Keith nearly always had a guitar within reach and, especially on the long bus journeys, killed the time by playing. They knew the next two weeks were going to be rough - Keith bored was bad enough, coming up with pranks for everyone. Keith bored and grumpy because he couldn't play was going to be miserable. They knew he wouldn't intend to, but he'd make it rough for all of them. It didn't help that there weren't going to be many other things he could do, either. He wasn't into sports or video games, so neither of those were going to help fill in the hours as they did for the other guys. Even his skate boarding was going to be have to be kept to a minimum to avoid falling on his wrist. They all had to resign themselves to the fact that, for the next two weeks, the only time Keith was going to be anything close to happy would be when he was on stage, performing.

By this point, the concert was a day and a half away. That time wasn't too bad; between the rehearsals they needed to switch out Keith's guitar parts to others, Keith mostly slept or ate. He didn't have enough energy to do anything else. That was odd enough to keep everybody a little on edge, since Keith was close to hyperactive most of the time. Fortunately, he'd had broken wrists before from skating and knew all the tricks to functioning with his wrist immobilized, so he didn't have that frustration to deal with.

On the afternoon before the concert, Keith finally seemed to be somewhat back to his old self. He'd been so quiet that Sharon had actually talked to him about sitting out this concert, worried that he wouldn't have enough energy for it. As she expected, he'd flat out refused to consider sitting it out and told her he'd be fine. He knew Bruce and Jim were coming and wanted them to see the whole show. And Sharon knew he'd push himself through it if he had to, even if they practically had to carry him to the bus afterwards.

When Bruce and Jim arrived at the venue, they were a little surprised to see how much of the audience was women - and older women at that. And it was clear that some of them were closer to groupies rather than fans - they heard some of them talking about how this was their 4 or 5th concert this year. Sharon had, of course, told them the name of the group, but Jim and Bruce had agreed not to look them up and just see what happened at the show. When they picked up their tickets, they were surprised to find a note and two backstage passes along with them. Sharon had written that she'd like them to come backstage to thank them again for being so helpful. They were glad; they hadn't had a chance to get back to the hospital to check on Keith and they wanted to find out how things had turned out.

Their seats turned out to be front row center, which made them feel a little odd since that was where most of the seriously groupie women seemed to be. Some of them at least had husbands with them, and the men seemed just as ready to enjoy the show, although less openly excited about it. They were surprised to see that there was actually a bit of a set, and clearly space for musicians on the stage. They had been expecting something more like a traditional band set-up.

Sharon came out of stage briefly before the show started, to explain that Keith had injured his wrist and that other people would be doing his guitar parts. That started the whole audience murmuring, and Jim and Bruce caught a lot of things like "Oh, not again!" and "What has that boy done to himself now?" and a fair amount of concern as well. Clearly it wasn't unusual for Keith to have some sort of injury, as Dave had said.

The band came on to loud cheering, and it was clear that the people in the audience knew the band by name as well - another surprise. Then the lights went down, and the drums started, and Bruce and Jim grinned at each other, realizing that this was going to be a lot different than they had expected, and already enjoying it. A haunting voice came from backstage, and then the cheers erupted louder as the singers came on stage. When Keith lifted his head up and started singing, Bruce and Jim just looked at each other in amazement. Somehow this strong, clear tenor call wasn't what they'd expected from Keith singing. They'd somehow both expected a rougher rock or country edge to his voice.

The surprises just kept coming. The only person who sounded like they'd expected him to was George. Emmet turned out to have a phenomenal and highly trained tenor/baritone voice, while Colm's gentle voice was completely at odds with the man who'd taken such control after Keith's injury. They'd hadn't actually met Neil, but his high sweet tenor was like nothing they'd ever heard before. Keith turned out to also have the rock/country voice they'd expected, but it was so different from what he'd started the show with that Bruce and Jim both agreed that they wouldn't have thought it was the same person if they hadn't seen him singing.

The biggest surprise was Ryan. The hesitant man who could barely speak was completely gone. Ryan's eyes were flashing, his movements were crisp and sharp, and his voice was powerful. He was playing the bad boy role to the hilt, clearly enjoying it. When intermission came, Bruce looked at Jim and said, "Is that really Ryan? I wonder what was wrong with him the other day?"

Jim grinned. "Keith told me, actually, while we were in the ambulance. Ryan had a head injury that nearly killed him in June. Keith said he was in a coma for 3 weeks, but he was back in rehearsal with them by the beginning of August. He said Ryan hadn't had an episode like that in over a month. I guess waking up to that was just too much for him to process all at once."

Bruce looked at him skeptically. "This past June? Like 5 months ago? That's a ridiculously fast recovery!"

"I know," Jim shrugged. "But there he is, and he's obviously fine when he hasn't just had his world turned upside down."

When the second act started, each of the singers had a brief moment to talk to the audience. Keith told them that he'd cut his wrist on glass, but would be fine in two weeks. He also (carefully not looking at Bruce and Jim) said that the paramedics who had helped him were in the audience and thanked them again. When the people around the two men realized that Keith had actually needed an ambulance they suddenly became much more upset than they had been; some of them were almost crying. A few of them compared the situation to finding out about Ryan's accident.

When Ryan had a chance to talk he gave them a brief version of how he'd been injured, and said that he couldn't believe how much support he'd gotten from the fans and how much they'd helped him through his recovery. It was obvious from the reaction of the crowd that Ryan was dearly loved by everyone - in fact, all the guys were. Bruce and Jim had never seen such a camaraderie between performers and fans before, it was like they were all family somehow.

After they finished what seemed to be the last song, the performers were all taking their bows and responding to the audience, clapping and pointing back at the audience. Jim suddenly shuddered and said, "Oh, no, he didn't just do that!" Bruce had been looking the other way, and said, "What?"

"Keith just tried to clap," Jim said. "You should have seen the look on his face for a split second. That must have hurt like hell."

"Well, he looks OK now," Bruce said. Keith was standing there smiling and waving, like nothing had happened, and Colm actually gave him a hand to clap against when they went over to the other side of the stage. The performers went off stage, and Bruce and Jim figured the lights would go up, but they didn't. Instead, the band broke into a lively instrumental number.

Backstage, where no one could see, Keith had nearly dropped to his knees as soon as he was out of sight of the audience. His wrist hurt so badly he thought he might pass out. Colm and Emmet grabbed him and hauled him back to the quick change area and sat him down.

"Are you all right?" Colm said urgently.

"No," Keith said, gasping and bending over his wrist, which was cradled against his body. "God, that hurts. I almost passed out."

Sharon appeared beside him. "Are you going to be able to do Ireland's Call? Or should I have Colm take your part?"

"I can do it," Keith said. "I'm not going to scare them like that. But I'll need help for the kilt change, I'm not going to be able to use this hand at all." He forced himself to get up and get moving, knowing they had only minutes. "Sharon, can you get Bruce and Jim back here as soon as the lights are up? I might need them again."

"Of course," Sharon said, watching him worriedly as he started to one-handedly get ready for the kilt change. Candice and her assistants appeared and took over, letting Colm and Emmet have time to change as well. Keith was white as a sheet, and sweating, and his breathing was still ragged. Sharon had no idea how he was going to get through that last song, but by the time the first chords started and the screams began from the audience, he had found a moment to shut his eyes and pull himself together, and went out on stage as if he hadn't been gasping in pain 3 minutes before. She watched in concern from the side of the stage, and although she and the others in the CT family could see the effort it was taking him to get through the song, from the audience side it had to look nearly flawless. Sharon shook her head, wondering at the strength in that young man, and then went and asked one of the security men to find Bruce and Jim as soon as possible and bring them back to the singers' dressing room.

Bruce and Jim had seen little to concern them when Keith came out; he seemed to be fine, using his arm freely and singing as clearly as he had all night. When the song was over and he'd gone offstage, several of the ladies commented that he hadn't done his normal heel click kick when he went off. What they couldn't see was that just backstage Colm and Emmet had thrown their arms around Keith and practically carried him to the dressing room, the others clearing the way for him. Once inside, they sat him on the couch and Colm made him put his head between his knees; he was afraid Keith really was going to pass out this time.

Bruce and Jim had barely risen from their seats when a security guard asked their names and then said, very quietly, "I've been asked to bring you backstage immediately. Keith wants you." They looked at each other in worry, but didn't ask anything until they were backstage.

"Is he all right?" Jim said.

The security guard shook his head - he was part of the CT crew, and Keith was family to him as well - and said, "No, they practically had to carry him off stage from both of the last two numbers. He's hurting, bad." He opened the door to the dressing room and let them in, then stationed himself outside the door as he closed it.

The first thing they saw was Keith hunched over on the sofa, Colm beside him and the other singers as well as Sharon nearby. Jim was down on his knees in front of Keith in an instant, trying to get a look at him. "Keith? It's Jim. Are you OK? What happened?"

Keith pushed himself up left-handed, and flopped back against the couch, trembling. He was still pale, and still breathing roughly. He said, "When I forgot and started clapping, it felt like every stitch pulled out of my wrist. I've never had anything hurt like that in my life. I honestly expected to see blood coming out from under the brace. It's not hurting as much now, but it burns like fire. Can you guys check it out and make sure I didn't do any damage?"

"Of course," Bruce said. "Do you have extra bandage material?"

Colm got up and went to where the box of supplies was. "Yeah, we brought it in from the bus in case he got the bandages wet in the shower," he said.

"All right," said Jim, "First, we need to know what was damaged. Did you need any surgery?"

"No," Keith said. "Dr. Kuntz was surprised, but he said I only had nicks in both of the arteries, no tendon or nerve damage. I've got stitches in the arteries and the skin, that's it."

"Ok, then let's get this brace off," Jim said. "Gently, now." He unstrapped the brace and gently pulled it off over Keith's fingers. "Keith, I'm going to support your wrist while Bruce undoes the wrapping."

"Ok," Keith said. He concentrated on trying to keep his hand as still as possible and not clenching it into a fist against the pain.

"You're good," Jim said. "The stitches are intact, although they're clearly irritated. If you'd torn the arterial ones, there'd be a huge bruise and swelling by now, so I'm sure they're fine as well. We're going to get this wrapped up again, and then I think an ice pack, if you have one, would probably help a lot with the pain. Just make sure you keep that wrist supported until the brace is back on."

Keith breathed a huge sigh of relief as did everyone around him. It was clear everyone else in the room had been just as stressed by Keith's pain as he was, and just as worried. Ryan had disappeared out the door and came back with a bag of ice in a few moments. He grabbed a towel and put the ice on Keith's wrist gently, watching him carefully. "All right?", he said.

"Yeah," Keith said tiredly. "It feels good. Thanks, Ryan."

"No problem," Ryan said. "I can't believe you managed to get through that without losing it onstage. I didn't even realize you'd hurt yourself until you almost collapsed before the kilt change."

Colm said, "I knew it hurt when you clapped, but I didn't know how bad. I just figured I'd help you out so you wouldn't try it again."

"Don't worry," Keith said, grimacing. "I won't be trying THAT again anytime soon!"


	9. Chapter 9

Friends chapter 9

Now that the immediate crisis was over, suddenly there was a lot of bustle around the dressing room as people started to grab quick showers and change out of their kilt sets. Keith was slowly settling down as the ice numbed the pain in his wrist, and Sharon had ducked out of the room again. Still, every few minutes someone would swing by the couch to check on Keith and express their thanks to Jim and Bruce, who were getting embarrassed by all the attention - after all, they'd only been doing their jobs. It often seemed like there were 10 or 12 men in the room instead of 6, especially when someone would start something - try to grab off the towel someone was wearing to the shower, hiding clothes and shoes or mixing them up. At one point Keith looked up as Colm got up, leaving his phone on the counter, and then sighed, saying, "Damn, a perfect opportunity wasted."

"For what?" Jim said, grinning as he had recognized a fellow prankster in Keith.

"Hijack Colm's Twitter account," Keith said, grinning. "He still hasn't learned to make sure he's signed out before he leaves his phone laying around. But I'm not quite up to typing left-handed yet, and he'll be back to get it - see, here he comes now. Ya gotta be quick with this crew."

Jim and Bruce looked at each other. "Good thing we didn't have Facebook and Twitter when we were in college, right?" Bruce said, laughing.

"Yeah," Jim agreed. "We got into enough trouble as it was. Remember the time we moved the dorm room into the Student Services office?" They both started laughing.

"You did what?" Keith said with a huge grin, leaning forward to hear this story.

"We were friends with the head of Student Services," said Bruce. "So one weekend we emptied his office and moved Jim's entire dorm room into it - bunks and all."

"I love it," Keith said. "That takes a master prankster, that does. You'd fit right in around here. Not that we have that much stuff to move around."

"There was a whole crew of us once," Jim said. "We're still all pretty much in touch, but it's been years since all of us have actually gotten together. I think we might have to find a way to fix that."

"Not to change the subject," Keith said, "but I've got to get a move on. I need to get that brace back on and get out to the buses; the fans'll be waiting."

"Waiting at your buses?" Bruce said, surprised, as they helped Keith wrap up his wrist and get the brace back on. "Are they allowed?

"Technically, no," said Keith. "But they do anyway, and we always go out and talk to them and let them get pictures and autographs and stuff. Sharon's not too keen on it, but the fans love it, and most of the time we do, too. Every once in a while it gets a little awkward, but it's pretty rare." Keith was gathering up his clothes as he spoke, and grabbed Ryan as he passed by. "Give me a hand, will you, Ry?" he said, and then turned back to Bruce and Jim. "Wait for me, yeah?"

"Sure," they both said, and settled down on the vacated couch. "This has got to be the weirdest touring operation I've ever seen," said Bruce.

"Yeah," Jim agreed. "Doesn't seem to be much of a divide between performer and fan. It seems like they'd have no privacy at all."

George was passing by at that moment, and stopped. "We have as much as we want to have, pretty much," he said. "None in here amongst ourselves, obviously. But it's up to us how much we want to share with the fans, some of us share more than others. Ryan's probably the most open, but I'm pretty close behind. Most of the fans could pick out my wife and daughter walking along the street even if I'm not with them, and Keith's sister Rebecca as well. But I don't know that anybody would recognize Ryan's brother and sister, or Emmet's family, either."

Jim looked up at him. "Doesn't that bother you?" he said, puzzled.

"No, to be honest it's one of my favorite things about this gig," George grinned. "We've got the best fans in the world, they support us all the way. Spread the word when we're doing solo shows and about solo albums we have out. See that pile of stuff over there?" He pointed to a corner of the dressing room, where a stack of bags and boxes looked like Christmas had come early. "That's all from fans. They know what we like and they're always giving us stuff. And you heard Ryan, talking about his accident; the fans are part of what pulled him through that so fast."

"I still don't get it," Jim said.

"I'm not surprised," said George. "It took us a while to figure it out as well, especially the gifts. Took a while to wrap our heads around that." He turned his head as Sharon called him from the door. "I'll be right back, lads," he said.

Bruce and Jim looked at each other, but didn't have much chance to say anything before Keith came back with Ryan in tow. Ryan perched himself on the arm of the sofa while Keith was getting all of his things packed up. He looked down at Bruce and Jim seriously. "Thank you so much for helping us out the other day," he said.

"It's our job," Bruce started to say, but Ryan cut him off. "It is, but you guys don't do it as a job. You do it because you care, and you like helping people. And you make a real effort to make things easier for everyone. I might have been having trouble that day, but I could see that clearly." He grinned. "I understand the crew that helped me after I fell was pretty much the same, but you expect that when you live in a very small town like I do. Everybody on the crew either knew me or my family, of course they're going to be supportive as well as doing their jobs. You guys don't know who we are, or anything about us, but you came in and slid right into how we were dealing with things rather than trying to make us do it your way. That helped ease everybody's nerves right away."

He didn't get a chance to say anything else, as Sharon opened the door and George came through carrying a big cake and with the whole band trailing behind him, singing "For They are Jolly Good Fellows" at the top of their lungs. It was probably one of the times that Bruce and Jim were the most embarrassed they'd ever been, but they couldn't help enjoying feeling appreciated either.

It seemed only a few moments before most of the cake was gone, and the guys were headed out to see the fans. Keith grabbed a handful of pens and went right along with them. Sharon grabbed his shirt and said, "Keith, you really shouldn't..."

He gave her a cheeky grin and said, "But I'm going to anyway, Momma Sharon, and I'll deal with the consequences later. We've got ice packs on the bus." And he disappeared out the door.

Sharon looked at Bruce and Jim and shook her head, grinning. "That boy," she said. "I think I'm the one in charge, but most of the time he gets right round me and does whatever he wants."


	10. Chapter 10

Friends Chapter 10

Bruce and Jim were laughing. "Yeah," said, Jim, "it seems like he's a law unto himself."

"He is," Sharon said. "Well, they all are, to a certain extent, but Keith's the worst. And he can be so charming when he wants to be that it's hard to stay mad at him. I met him when he was 20, and he was already like this; it's a wonder he wasn't a spoiled brat if he could wind his parents around his little finger like he does everyone else. He keeps us all laughing, and you never know what he's going to be up to next."

They'd gone to stand at the doorway where Sharon could watch what was going on at the buses. There was a line of waist-high metal railings set up between the buses and the fans, and the guys were talking, laughing, getting and giving hugs, and signing autographs and taking pictures with the fans, Keith in the midst of it and grinning widely.

Watching, Bruce said, "Do you ever have security issues with this? It seems like it would be so easy for something to go wrong."

"Nothing major so far with these meetings," Sharon said. "Our fans are mostly well-behaved, although of course you get a few that get carried away. But the boys are good at dealing with it and security is close by, though we've never really needed them. I do worry about their voices and their health, though, with them being out in the night air, sometimes for more than an hour, right after they've been on a hot stage for so long. It's not so bad here in Florida, but sometimes it's really cold outside by the end of the tour. I'm thinking about putting a stop to it for the next tour, but the guys enjoy it and it's one of the special things about being a Celtic Thunder fan, that you can do this. If I do stop it, I'm sure I'll hear about it from both sides." They chatted for a while longer as Sharon kept an eye on her boys, and then Bruce and Jim had to go so they could get enough sleep to be ready for their shift the next day.

The next week and a half was tough, but not quite as bad as the guys had expected. They had been prepared to listen for the sound of ripping velcro as Keith got frustrated with the brace and tried to take it off to do something, but between the memory of how he'd been bleeding and the experience of trying to clap, Keith wasn't about to risk messing up those stitches by being stupid. He never once tried to take the brace off when he wasn't supposed to.

Keeping him away from the guitars was another story. Keith couldn't get to his own because they were under the guard of their backline manager, and he wasn't about to let Keith get his hands on one and face Sharon's wrath. But there were an awful lot of guitars belonging to other people in Celtic Thunder and generally nobody minded someone else picking up their guitar if it happened to be nearby; they all trusted each other to be careful with them. Keith had, as Sharon had known he would, a lot of times when he "just wanted to try something for a minute" (they all knew that he was incapable of playing for only a minute and that once he got hold of a guitar they'd probably have to wrestle him for it) - but somehow there was always somebody watching him and scolding him before he could actually start to play. He was frustrated to no end; he even tried explaining to Neil or Davie what it was that he wanted to try and seeing if they could play it for him, but that never worked because there was really no way to explain how it sounded in his head. They couldn't keep him out of the music shops in the cities they went to, but at least there he could have somebody else play the guitars to hear what they sounded like. It wasn't the same as playing them himself, but it was better than nothing.

As expected, he was driving everyone crazy with practical jokes. If Keith had nothing else to do, he spent his time dreaming up pranks, and now he had a lot of time with nothing else to do. And of course, once he escalated, the retaliation escalated as well, until Sharon and nearly everyone else was being driven mad by a near-constant string of pranks. More than one person was counting down the days until those stitches could come out and Keith could play again.

Finally the day arrived, but that couldn't go smoothly, either. He'd had an appointment to get the stitches taken out, but they kept calling him and telling him he'd have to wait another hour - and finally he decided that he had to be back at the theatre, so back he went, and enlisted Colm's help to take the blasted things out himself. He knew perfectly well that taking them out wasn't hard as long as you had a sharp pair of scissors and some tweezers, but not being left-handed did make it a bit of a problem. Colm wasn't about to let Keith have a pointy pair of scissors near that wrist in his left hand, so he ended up doing the cutting, and Keith did the pulling. Colm was a nervous wreck by the time it was done, but they managed it without any problems.

Colm took a good look at Keith's wrist once they'd gotten him cleaned up. "You're going to have to keep that covered for a while yet, mate," he said. The scar was still raised and red, even a bit raw in places. "You catch that on something and you'll tear it right open again. Do you think you'll be able to do your guitar parts tonight?"

Keith tried to flex his wrist experimentally, but it was very stiff. "No," he said, sadly. After the previous breaks he'd had, he knew it would take at least a day for him to get the full flexibility back in his wrist. "I just hope I can get it back in time for the Poor David's gig," he added. "I don't want to have to cancel it. And I wanted to do a busking video in San Antonio at the Alamo."

"Oh, well," Colm said. "At least you're out of the brace. Let's go find Sharon and let her know where we are, and then I'll help you wrap it up again." They wandered off to report to Sharon, who agreed that the others should keep covering Keith's parts in the show, but who did agree to let him have his guitars back. A collective sigh of relief was heard as everyone saw a guitar in Keith's hands again, although he was doing very little with it at the moment, mostly just bending and rolling his wrist around, a little at a time. Colm had wrapped it very lightly, just enough to protect it, so the bandage didn't limit his movement much. He'd been surprised that Keith wanted a picture of the cut before it was wrapped, but he understood when Keith posted it to Twitter, saying, "It's finally healing!" He knew that all the fans were worrying, and the picture would help settle them down.

Back in Sarasota, Jim had been following CT through Twitter after they'd left, and he burst out laughing when he saw the videos and tweets Keith had posted about his adventures getting the stitches out. As soon as he saw Bruce, he said, "Want to guess who ended up taking Keith's stitches out?"

"I'll bet it wasn't a medical professional," Bruce said.

"You'd be right," Jim laughed. "He did it himself."

"Why does that not surprise me," Bruce said blandly. "Got impatient, did he?"

"Yeah, after they moved his appointment back a few hours. They heard about it, too, he put up a video complaining about it. All in all, it looks like it's healing pretty well, though. Wish we could have heard him play."

Keith worked on his wrist movements for the rest of that day, whenever he wasn't on stage. By the next morning, he'd gotten enough flexibility back that he could actually play briefly, although it wasn't the most comfortable thing he'd ever done. He collected Angie and went out to the Alamo and recorded the busking video he'd wanted to do there, without a lot of trouble, but he asked Sharon to keep his guitar parts for the show covered for that night and the following one yet. He needed to do the Poor David's gig the next night and knew he wouldn't be able to get through the guitar work in the show and the solo gig as well.

Even so, he had trouble getting through the gig. By the end of it, his wrist was hurting and he'd had to ice it when he got back to the bus. He found out later that he hadn't been able to keep all the pain off his face when a fan posted a picture from the gig that clearly showed him hurting and unhappy.

The busking video came out a week or so later, and Jim and Bruce were both pretty impressed. As Jim said, "If he can play like that when he's just had his wrist in a brace for two weeks, he's got to be amazing when he's not hurting." He'd become quite a fan of Keith's.

Keith was just glad that the cut was healing every day, and very happy when he could finally leave the bandages off. Everyone else was glad they'd dodged another bullet - and that the pranking had finally scaled back to "normal" levels!


End file.
